Pockets Full of Stars
by twelveisagoodone
Summary: Clara and The Doctor had been traveling for a long time after Christmas and things are pretty good between them. They are friends having a good time together. Except that their own hearts don't think in that same way.
1. Chapter 1

They had been dancing around each other since his regeneration, in a slow and painful pace, always wondering which would be the next step in that strange dance of them. But it was really hard to dance when you were unsure about the ground under your feet, when you couldn't see the light in the room and you were too afraid of the shadows even to search for a friendly hand to hold.

He had changed; so much that she had questioned all her beliefs about him. He had lost his softness, his warmth and his easy smile. The sadness was more evident in the blue steel of his eyes now, as well as the darkness, the fury of the storm that had always dwelt inside him. And that had frightened her to her bones and it had blinded her to the obvious truth.

It had taken her a long time to figure him out, to finally feel that his hearts were still in the right place, despite all of his apparent aloofness and, sometimes, even cold demeanor.

He had changed, of course he had. Life change people, all the time. This new him was indeed different from the floppy haired young man he had once been not only because of the evident lines on his face or the silver curls of his hair. But mostly because this man had been forged through nine hundred years of a solitary siege, in a cruel war in a planet that he knew it would become his grave at the end.

It had taken her a ridiculous amount of time to see him, to really see him, to find the real him inside his eyes. Until she could finally see in him the same softness, the same warmth, that from time to time slipped through the small cracks on the many layers and walls he had built around his soul.

He was still the same. And yet, so very different. He was now more alien than ever, more hectic, almost maniac sometimes with his scary shark grin. But his eyes would still shine with a boyish excitement with each new discovery, with the prospect of every new adventure. He was able to drive her crazy with his stubbornness and his childish necessity to prove himself always right. But he would always be there to stop the monsters and save the day, he would be always there to risk everything and challenge everyone to have her back. He still would be always there. For her. Even in the darkest hour. Even through death.

So, yes, he was still the same, although different. He had now that strange quality about him, an intensity, a fire slow burning, deep rooted and carefully hidden inside him. It was something most of the time overshadowed by his alienness but it was more easily noticeable in the quiet moments they shared at the TARDIS, when they were safe and alone and his guard was down. It was something she couldn't quite put her finger on it; or that maybe she'd rather ignore, for the sake of their friendship and for her own sanity. She had already lost too much to risk losing him.

So she would turn a blind eye to the spark that lit up his eyes and would pretend not see the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. She would ignore a careless brush of his fingers on her hand and would close her ears to the loud ponding of her stupid heart.

"Because it is the right thing to do," she kept telling herself.

-0—0—

It had been the worst day ever. For some stupid reason the TARDIS had landed in the wrong place and instead of being in the middle of a peaceful and cheerful fair in the medieval England, they had found themselves surrounded by a dozen of very angry bull headed warriors. Whom, besides having three legs and smelt like they had just come out from a sewer, hadn't the slightest aptitude for talking. Or negotiating.

The filthy creatures had put them in chains into a dark dungeon, which smelt just as bad as them and had left them alone for an interminable argument of whom had been supposed to bring the vibrocutters.

Honestly, why someone would need vibrocutters in a totally pacific medieval fair anyway? Besides, he had been the one who had forgotten the sonic screwdriver at the TARDIS. How someone who even used to sleep with that stupid screwdriver in his pocket could have forgotten it, it was something beyond her understanding.

But they banter had been interrupted by a sudden explosion that made one of the dungeon's walls collapse. Among the cloud of dust and debris emerged a group of soldiers in heavy white metallic armors, leaving her and the Doctor in the middle of a battle without any chance to defend themselves.

But the worst was yet to come. A few hours later, she had woken up feeling sore and disoriented only to face up the most outrageous scene in front of her eyes. The Doctor, her Doctor, the _not-a-hugging-person-anymore_, was in the arms of not only one, but two women whose greedy hands and lips were all over him.

Somehow, in the middle of whatever they were trying to do, he had convinced the women to release them. The only explanation he had given her while they ran back to the security of the TARDIS had been that they were a race of women soldiers apparently in war with the bull-headed warriors and that they were the metallic soldiers that had broke into the dungeon and made them prisoners

She had not yet recovered from the image of the women over him and much less from the turmoil of emotions that that sight had provoked on her. So she needed to close her eyes for a moment trying to wipe out the thought while she paced the control room as a caged animal. She could feel his eyes trained on her while he placed new coordinates at the console and the usual hum of the TARDIS' motor filled the heavy silence between them.

Clara knew she had no right to feel like that. They were just friends, he had made it clear from the very beginning. And besides, from her point of view, tied to a chair on the opposite corner of the room, she had had the impression that he had been as terrified as herself. And yet, she couldn't help the feeling of… Jealous? Outrage? Betrayal? She shook her head. _Stop it! Stop it! I have my feelings under control, haven't I? Not your boyfriend, remember, Clara Oswald?_

When she finally raised her eyes to look at him, he had already smoothed his clothes; his shirt was buttoned to the top and back inside his trousers. And except for his crazy disheveled curls, which in any other situation would have put a smile on her lips, there wasn't any visible sign of what had happened.

"Are you alright?" He finally broke the awkward silence, concern all over his face.

"Yes." She must be, mustn't she? Nothing really bad had happened; they were still both in one piece. So why was she still so angry? Jealousy? Not. Not jealousy. She looked away from him. Maybe. _Damn. Damn. Damn._

Since she had accepted his invitation to come with him at Christmas she had been struggling to keep her feelings under control. And she thought she had done a really good job so far. Even with all the little changes in him and in their relationship that she had preferred ignore. She suppressed a sigh. She must stop thinking about it or she would ruin everything. Or became insane, what would come first.

They were friends and she had accepted it when she had decided to join him in a permanent basis. Besides, he had been practically abused by that two women hadn't he? It was not like he had enjoyed it or had any kind of feelings for them. She almost rolled her eyes at herself. _Oh, I have to stop it!_

"Clara, I-"

"What did you tell them, Doctor? To convince them to free us?" She cut him off, her eyes anywhere but him so she didn't saw the look of confusion on his face.

"You're cross." It was an affirmation, not a question.

"I'm not." She tried to control her tone and felt his eyes desperately searching her face for answers she didn't have. "You didn't answer my question," she insisted, putting the pressure on him.

He watched her for a moment longer before he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And why should I? That isn't even what you want to ask me anyway." His intense gaze burned holes on her skin. "So I think we are just even."

"Right! I am cross!" She finally got the courage to look at him again. "But not for the reasons you might think," she regretted her words as soon as they had slipped from her lips. Even though, she sustained his gaze. "What the hell had happened there, Doctor?"

"You saw it," his arms fell heavily to the sides of his body. "You know what had happened, Clara."

"Don't! Don't do it!" She raised her forefinger at him and he sighed, running a hand through his face in frustration. For a moment she feared that he would just leave her heart felt on her stomach.

"They drugged me," he finally showed her two circular small red marks on his left wrist. "It was how they overcame me and,... Well, you know." He blushed slightly but put himself together quickly to continue. "Fortunately my system recovered faster than they were expecting and, by the time you woke up, I was regaining my senses."

He shoved his hands on his trousers pockets and watched her while she avoided eye contact in a faint attempt to prevent him to see through her. But she suspected that it was useless now.

"Nothing had happened, Clara. You were there. You saw it." His voice was low but she could feel his frustration. She couldn't even fully understand why he was telling her that, why he was explaining himself to her. But that was what she had asked him to do, wasn't it? A long moment passed before she could talk again.

"Are you alright?"

His countenance softened a little and he nodded. "I'm good," he averted his gaze for a brief moment before his eyes searched for hers once more. "Are we?"

His question caught her off guard and she really didn't know how to answer it, her mind racing while her foolish heart almost jumped out of her chest in a crazy attempt to find all the different meanings where it was nothing. Because there wasn't, was it? Then she just nodded and was rewarded with that bashful smile of his, that she had become so fond, before he walked to the door that lead to the TARDIS corridors.

"Good." He stopped at the doorway to look at her. "Now, if you will excuse me, I am in need of a wash."

-0—0—

She took her time in a long shower and decided that sorting out her feelings now was something nearly impossible, especially after that 'are-we-good' conversation. The best she could do was pretend nothing had happened and keep ignoring all the skipped beats of her heart. Everything would be under control as long as he kept his distance and she kept her head over her shoulders.

In her way to the control room she found the kitchen and stopped to make them coffee. Somewhat, the TARDIS lately seemed to be more friendly with her, which was a blessing in a day like that. Minutes later she found him leaning against the console over a pile of scattered pieces, focused on assembling one more of his endless gadgets with questionable names. She quietly placed the coffee mug next to him and climbed the stairs to fetch her book from the bookshelf.

"Thank you," he muttered before he took a long sip, watching her while she made herself comfortable at his armchair with her book and her coffee mug. She could swear there was a smile tugging on his lips when she covered her mouth to hide a yawn. Normally he would make one of his clever remarks, just to tease her, but not today. He knew her better to press his luck. He kept silent, turning his attention back to the gadget and eventually, sipping from his coffee. A comfortable silence felt over them, broken only for the occasional soft humming of the TARDIS or for the sounds of metal against metal while he worked.

She watched him for a long moment, all her fears slowly succumbing to the quiet force of his presence. He glanced at her and she felt the heat of his gaze warming her heart. They were fine. They would be fine. She hid her smile behind her book and tried to focus on it, but slowly felt the sleep starting to claim her.

-0-0-

How had he allowed things to go so wrong? It had been his entire fault; he shouldn't have forgotten the sonic, he shouldn't have allowed them out of the TARDIS without checking if it was safe, he shouldn't have forgotten basic security principles! But she had clapped her hands and had smiled so brightly showing him her dimples and he had gotten lost in the spark of her eyes. What the hell was going wrong with him? _Doctor idiot!_

He put his head on his hands. It was a stupid question. He knew very well what was that all about. Two thousand years of living had made him familiar with the fluttering at his stomach every time their eyes met, to the warm on his chest when she smiled, to the growing need to hold her in his arms and keep her there, safe and happy. He knew it, too damn well. Because he had been fighting it since the beginning and now he was starting to feel his resolution weakening.

But he couldn't allow it; he must to be strong, for both of them, for the sake of their friendship and their sanity. For her sake. Damn.

From the corner of his eye he saw her coming in hesitant steps, two mugs of coffee in her hands, one of them she placed next to him at the console. She didn't say a thing and he was grateful for that. Their day had already been bad enough for another conversation about how he had ended up between (_or under?_) two soldier-woman, the memory still too fresh to not upset him. He still didn't understand why that had upset her too, or at least, he was trying hard to pretend he didn't have a clue. He must to do it.

"Because it is the right thing to do," he kept telling himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyes fluttered open and she breathed in the familiar scent, something like stardust and musky aftershave and something else that could only be him, and she nuzzled her face deep into the pillow to breathe in. And then, it hit her, like a slap on her face and prompted her to sit up straight in the bed. Slowly she opened her eyes to see the bedroom around her. Not her bedroom. Nope. Definitely not. But she was inside the TARDIS, about that she was sure. So that must be… _His_. His bedroom.

No signs of that terrifying ice cream pain at the side of her head, so she was awake and that was real.

Her eyebrows rose at their own volition and she knew that her face must be all eyes by now. Thank God he couldn't see her because she was pretty sure that he wouldn't spare her of one of those remarks from that smart mouth of his. _Doctor comedian_. She almost smiled. Almost.

It was a really awkward feeling to wake up on his bedroom without even knowing how she had gotten there. But that shouldn't be a big deal, right? She had already been in his bedroom before; she had even shared a bed with him once. Well, not exactly that same bedroom and not exactly the same _him_.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. That was really unexpected. He had never allowed her inside of his bedroom and that must mean something. Or not. Maybe it didn't. She sighed. Better if it didn't.

With a deep breath she recollected herself, giving her a moment to analyze his bedroom. A bookshelf covered one of the walls and her lips finally curled in a small grin. This new him was a complete bookworm. Two large wooden doors hid what she thought could only be his wardrobe and she dismissed her curiosity to take a peek inside it. She didn't want to break his trust, after all that was the first time he had allowed her inside his bedroom.

Besides the large bed on which she was sitting, the only other piece of furniture was a big armchair; very similar to the one he kept at the control room. Nothing else. Everything so simple, so… him. And yet, undeniably cozy. A paradox. Just like him.

She jumped from the bed decided to take a shower before she could join him, but instead, her legs (with a huge help from the TARDIS that had changed the corridors and rooms again) she went straight to the control room. It took her a moment to find him, at the balcony, maniacally scribbling incomprehensible symbols on the chalkboard. His tousled hair and the uncountable spots of white chalk on his dark trousers told her that he had been on it for a long time.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he paused for a moment to look at her, his hand suspended in the middle of the movement, the soft light in his eyes arousing in her feelings that she had just promised to ignore.

"Hey, you," she smiled earning from him a soft grin before he turned his attention back to the chalkboard, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"How long have I been sleeping?" She disguised a yawn and slowly walked up the stairs to meet him near the chalkboard.

"Twelve hours."

"Twelve hours?" That really was a record. But she had to admit that she had been exhausted, especially after everything that had happened yesterday. So it was just comprehensible.

"More or less," he cast her a glance while he drew another couple of symbols. "It could have been twelve days, or even twelve months. Maybe more. I'm not sure." Her eyes widen in surprise but then a second later she caught the small twitch in the corner of his mouth and rolled her eyes at him. _Teaser._

"Ha-ha. Very funny."

The sarcasm in her voice made his lips curled in a lopsided grin, but he didn't look at her.

She leaned back against the rail to watch him while he kept writing. "Did the TARDIS hide my bedroom again?" And there she was, walking in eggshells once more.

"Have no idea." He blinked blankly at her. "Having trouble to find it?"

"I thought that it might had happen since… I woke up at your bedroom."

"Ah," his eyes quickly moved back to the board as if the answer for her implied question were at the equations in front of him. "You fell asleep in the armchair and I thought you would be more comfortable on a bed. My bedroom was just closer, so," he shrugged.

She looked at him in silence for a moment longer and decided to ignore the slight blush on his cheeks. She was probably just imagining it anyway. It was no big deal after all, she had fallen asleep at the armchair; he had taken her to the nearest bedroom. Just like that.

"So, where are we going today?" Her voice finally broke the silence, changing the subject to avoid any more awkwardness.

"We are already there." He tossed her a quick glance over his shoulder, enough for her to have a glimpse of the smart grin on his face. "Or here."

She quirked an eyebrow that he couldn't see because his eyes were fixed on the chalkboard once more. "And where exactly is here?"

"Take a peek through the door," he said scratching at his scalp still not looking at her.

"Won't you tell me?"

He turned around to meet her eyes, a small smile fighting its way into his lips.

"Go on, be brave! Take a look. And tell me if you like it."

He was up to something. She could feel it in the air, in every fiber of that adorable smug grin on his face, but she couldn't put her finger on it. So, even reluctantly, she walked to the TARDIS' door, but stopped before opening it.

"I won't be attacked by something nasty, will I?"

"Nope."

She looked at him for a moment. "You're giving me the creeps with all this mystery, Doctor."

He didn't even give himself the trouble to answer her and continued with whatever he was doing at the chalkboard. She could swear that he was just pretending to be so much focused in his infinite equations. Too bad that she didn't know a word in Gallifreyan because she could bet that there wasn't a single line in that board that would made sense.

She opened the door cautiously and remained inside the TARDIS for a few seconds before she finally gave in to her curiosity and peek out only to catch her breath. Encouraged by the sight, she gave one step outside.

The TARDIS was parked on the top of a soft hill and the view couldn't be more appealing. The waves of an ocean of an exquisite shade of purple gently broke at a deserted beach of pink sand. It was a small bay, surrounded by soft hills covered in a kind of green short vegetation that swayed gently under the breeze. Two suns shone in a cloudless sky and down there, on the left side of the bay, she could see a small building, a kind of a cottage with white walls and a brown wooden roof.

But it had been the hills that caught her attention. The swing of the vegetation under the breeze created a multitude of shades of blue, green and gray that reminded her of the impossible color of his eyes. His stormy eyes, which sparkled in a rich green when he was happy. That image put a smile on her face that she hid from him until it had vanished, before she came back inside.

"So?" He was at the top of the stairs, leaning against the rail with his arms crossed in front of his chest and watched her while she closed the door behind her back.

"Where are we?" She pushed back her thoughts about his eyes and tried to concentrate in something else. Too bad that his intense gaze upon her wasn't helping.

"Did you like it?" He had that expectant look on his face, the one that told her that he would be really disappointed if she didn't approve it.

She walked towards him slowly, straightening her eyes menacingly at him and watched as he shifted his weight from one leg to another, uneasy.

"So what's all this about, Doctor?" She stopped at the bottom of the staircase; hand on the rail and one foot on the first step, her eyes locked on his. That was a game that two could play after all. He tried to counter the implied threatens of her tone furrowing his eyebrows. But she knew him better to be affected by his attack eyebrows.

"You didn't answer my question," he threw the piece of chalk away and put his hands on his pockets, defensively.

"Neither did you," she climbed the two first steps closing the distance between them. "None of mine."

They stared at each other for a moment until he gave up. Clara brushed off a smile, knowing that it had been just a temporary victory.

"Fine," he huffed and trotted down the stairs stopping at the console. "We are at Alpha Pictor, one of the moons of a little planet called Hervellius, which, by the way, has two beautiful suns, as you must have already noticed." He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Did you like it?"

"The view is breath taking," she was forced to confess and there it was, that smug smile back on his face while he pressed buttons and looked at the monitors.

"So, why are we here?"

I took him a moment longer to answer. "I thought that after the last days you would be happy with a little break." He pressed some more buttons and moved the monitors, cautiously looking at her.

A break? He had planned them a break? Right. It should be incredibly sweet coming for any person, but coming from the Doctor was something truly terrifying. Because there were no holidays, no mini-breaks with the Doctor. It was something impossible to happen. No matter how much he really meant it, which she really doubted, memories of the Orient Express popping up in her mind, something always would happen to blow up their plans. Usually something really exciting and dangerous and that would made them run for their lives, transforming the prospect of a peaceful holiday in just another funny day in her life at the TARDIS. She looked at him only now being aware that she was open mouthed. He raised his thick eyebrows inquisitively.

"A holiday? Really?"

"For a change," he studied her face carefully.

"No sand piranhas, no mummies, no damaged Daleks to fix?"

"Nope." There was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Just a peaceful an ordinary beach."

"No planetary war, no memory worms, no creepy monsters waiting to devour us or to make soup of our brains?" She walked around the console to meet him, but he moved quickly to the other side, making her almost chase him. He was having his share of fun at her expenses, the bastard.

"No." He crossed his arms and thought for a moment. "As long as you keep your feet away from the water, we will be perfectly fine."

Her eyes widened and once more she walked trying to close the distance between them. This time he stood still, arms crossed and eyes locked on hers.

"What is in the water, Doctor?"

"Nothing that you would like to know," he said in a low voice as if hoping that she wouldn't hear him. "So, what do say?" He leaned against the console trying to seem casual, but his eyes full of expectation betrayed him.

"A break?" She said once more as if it were the most absurd thing in the entire universe, which, in the case of the Doctor it really was. "A real break, with no hidden intentions?"

"Can you trust me for this one, Clara?" He sounded wounded but the softness on his gaze told her the contrary.

"Two words for you. Orient Express."

He sighed. "That was different," he averted his eyes from her for a moment before he continued. "Trust me? Please?"

Right. That was enough to win her. Please wasn't a word that would come easily to his lips. Not even now, after all that had happened since Christmas. But he had that soft glint in his eyes that brought back the already familiar feeling on the pit of her stomach. If he only knew the effect that that look of his had on her she was doomed.

"Ok," she grinned showing him her dimples.

"Ok?" He echoed as if he was expecting her to refuse it, his eyebrows slightly rising in doubt.

"Ok," her smile widened and matched perfectly with the one on his face. An honest smile, her favorite, the one that always reached his eyes and made them spark. A smile so rare and so beautiful that always made her wish she could freeze the moment. He should smile like this more times. She felt herself blushing and cleared her throat averting her eyes from him. "But first, I need a shower. And a good coffee. Then we can go."

"Right." He seemed really happy and that warmed her heart. While she walked to the bathroom she thought that she had heard the sound of the TARDIS' motors, but she didn't give too much importance at that. He had promised her a peaceful break. And this time, she knew he meant it.

When she came back later, happy that the TARDIS had so willingly made easier for her to find her bedroom and the showers, she was surprised for a cup of steamy coffee waiting for her at the console room. She smiled. That explained the sound of TARDIS engines in motion from earlier. He had fetched her a coffee from her favorite coffee shop.

The Doctor was nowhere to be seen, but she guessed that he should be outside, since the TARDIS' door was open. Peeking through the door she saw him sat over a big rock with a similar coffee cup on his hands, his legs crossed and his silvery curls gently swaying with the breeze. His face was peaceful as he watched the sea at the distance.

For a moment she just stood there in silence, watching him, her breath caught as if afraid to break the spell of that so rare moment.

With a low sigh, she finally walked outside and leaned against the rock next to him. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, a coy smile twitching up the corners of his mouth.

"Glad you've found it," he glanced at her coffee before he took a long sip from his own. "Hope it's to your liking."

"It's perfect, thank you," she said sheepishly and he nodded.

They stood in silence for a long moment and she allowed herself just to enjoy his nearness, praying that for this once, their break could happen just like this. Quietly.

He then offered her a hand and helped her to climb the rock to sit next to him. After she made herself comfortable, he surprisingly reached out for her free hand and held it, gently.

Well, maybe she shouldn't be so surprised after all. That was something he started doing lately, hold her hand spontaneously, without her asking for. Sometimes it was just a gentlemanly gesture to support her or to keep her close and protect her in the middle of their adventures. Just like he had done in the moment before, helping her to climb the rock. Sometimes it was in kindness, to comfort her or to reassure her. But sometimes… Well, sometimes it was just… different. Without any particular reason, he would hold her hand while they were reading their books at the library's couch, in the middle of enjoyable walk, or in shared quiet moment. Like now. Just like that, out of the blue, he would reach for her hand, as if he just enjoyed the touch, the feeling of her hand in his.

At the first time, she didn't know what to do of that. Lately, she had just accepted it for what it was, something that they did now, this holding hands thing.

So, she let it be, and drank for her coffee, enjoying his silent nearness, the touch of his fingers on her hand. But the moment didn't last. A loud cry broke the silence and almost made her jump out of her skin.

At the distance, floating over the purple sea emerged a giant animal, very similar to a whale, just much bigger. Terrifyingly much bigger. She immediately cast a look of pure horror at the Doctor that strangely remained still at his place, not moving a single muscle, except for the ones at his face to show her an amused look with the raise of his eyebrows.

"What the hell is that?" She grabbed his arm with force and ignored his grimace when she did it. His apparently calm told her they weren't in mortal danger, but she couldn't avoid the feeling.

"The Hervellius blue whale," he took a moment to look at her hand on his arm. "As docile as a puppy."

"Are you sure of it?" She loosened her grip on his arm and he took the opportunity to massage the places where her fingernails had dug on his skin even over the fabric of his shirt. She would have laughed at it if she weren't yet frightened by the massive presence at the horizon.

"Yeap."

The animal was now floating over the ocean in a kind of slow and gracious dance while emitted sounds that seemed more like a sad song. She returned to her previous position next to him and did her best to ignore her first instinct of running away. So, they were safe. Maybe that was the reason he had told her to stay out of the water.

Another loud cry filled the air.

"Why is it crying?"

"It is not a cry. It is a calling. She is calling for her partner."

"Oh." She sipped from her coffee and smiled smugly. "It's a booty call!"

This time he turned his head to fully look at her for a moment before he rolled his eyes. "And I am the cynical one here."

She giggled. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

He huffed in indignation. "Want to hear the story or do you prefer to continue with your daffy assumptions?" He said impatiently.

"Right. Go on," she bit her lip, fighting back a smile.

He took a long sip of coffee and stood in silence for a moment longer. Probably just to punish her for her little joke.

"They have one single partner for their entire lifes."

"Like penguins?"

He gave her an annoyed look and she was forced to hide her smile behind her cup of coffee.

"So after they find the perfect match, they remain together until they die." He made a pause again, his eyes fixed on the creature dancing on the air at the distance. "The most curious thing is that when one of them die, the other will stay around, until it die too. They can't stand life with out each other."

She felt her throat constricting, fresh memories coming back to her mind. Feeling her uneasiness, he squeezed her hand gently before he continued.

"The most impressive thing about these animals is that the people of Hervellius believe that they have immortal souls," she moved her eyes to him but his gaze was still fixed on the giant whale. When he talked again she thought that his voice was a little bit hoarse than before. "So they are destined to search for each other, life after life, because is the only way they can be happy."

A heavy silence felt over them and she could see her sadness reflected on him, memories of the ones they had lost in their eyes. But strangely, it was his presence at her side now that hurt her most, even if he was still holding her hand, even if his thumb was gently brushing her fingers. Maybe, because of that. Suddenly, she removed her hand from his, his touch more than she could bear right now. Once she had thought that she had found in him something special. Now, after all, she just didn't know anymore. Things were different. But there were too much at stake, too much to risk, too much to loose.

He remained still; eyes fixed on the distance and awkwardly placed his own hand on his thigh, stretching the fabric of his trousers.

"Will she find it? Her soul mate?" She finally managed to ask, avoiding his soft gaze when he tilted his head to look at her.

"See it for yourself," he whispered and motioned his head as another giant blue whale appeared at the horizon.

This one was bigger and had bright blue dots on its head. His cry was louder but it sounded to Clara as happier. The first one replied, this time softer and they started to move around each other, with slow and acrobatic movements, in a kind of dance.

"They are beautiful," she finally said and he smiled, nodding in silence until the two giant animals disappeared back into the ocean with a great splash. He cast a glance at her, a bright smile on his lips.

"Pretty amazing, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," she smiled back, taking a look around them. "So, is everything about this place so impressive?"

"You can bet on it," he smirked.

"What is this place anyway?" She gave him a teasingly smile. "You gave up a snog box and got yourself a snog planet?"

He almost chocked on his coffee before his glare at her froze the silly grin on her face.

"It's a moon," he said grumpily. She quipped her eyebrows at him and he was forced to add. "And it's definitely not for snogging!" After a moment he looked at her and there was a strange look in his eyes. She moved uncomfortably under his intense gaze. "I thought that by now you should now me better, Clara."

"It was a joke!"

"Ha-ha." His stormy eyes burned holes on her skin.

"Come on, I was teasing you!" What was that wounded look on his eyes anyway? "Look, Doctor, I'm sorry. It was a joke. A really bad one."

He observed her for a silent moment, his eyes perusing her face as if trying to read the truth behind her words.

"Ok," he threw a pebble in the air and they both watched when it landed a few feet from them with a soft thud in the grass.

"Really?" She placed one hand in his forearm forcing him to look at her again.

"Really," his lopsided grin did little to reassure her but she decided to leave it quiet. He had never been an easy person to read, but today he was particularly difficult. There was something about him today that she couldn't quite put her finger on it and she was starting to tip toeing around him.

He stretched his long legs and looked at her. "This is a place I used to come, long time ago," he finally said in a soft tone. "A place for thinking, for forgetting, for… remembering." He sustained her gaze for a moment before averting his eyes. "It's been a long time since last time I've been here."

"The cottage, down there, is it yours?"

"No. It belongs to an old friend. The entire moon actually belongs to him." He looked around them. "The king of Hervellius. I helped him once and as a reward, he allowed me to come here whenever I want. And," that familiar boyish grin lit up his face when he jumped to the ground, "there are some amazing things I'd like to show you. Are you ready?"

"As ever," she accepted the hand he had offered her to help her to get down.

"Let me put these inside." He picked up her emptied cup of coffee. "I'll be back in a wink."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you all guys for your lovely reviews and follows and favorite. It meant a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

* * *

"Hello!" The male voice coming from behind her made her turn around quickly in surprise. A man stood just a few feet from her and watched her with unveiled curiosity; his incredibly blue eyes captivated her attention for a moment. "I'm looking for the Doctor," he said, giving two more steps towards her, shortening the distance between them without invading her personal space.

Clara analyzed him for a moment and decided that she was safe. There was something about his countenance that told her that he didn't represent any danger. But how had he approached her without her noticing anyway?

"He is inside the TARDIS," she pointed at the spaceship and watched how the sunlight cast flickers of gold and red in his brown curls when he moved his head to look at the big blue box. "He will be back in a minute," she added. At least, that was she hoped. Time keeping wasn't one of his strengths, as absurd as it might seem for a Time Lord.

"So I will wait for him here, if you don't mind," his eyebrows raised slightly and she couldn't avoid a coy smile. God, he was handsome.

"I would tell you to make yourself comfortable, but," she gesture around them with one hand, "I have very little to offer."

"Oh, please, don't worry," he showed her a perfect smile, like the ones on toothpaste's advertising, dimples flashing under his short and well kept reddish beard.

He finally moved his eyes from her to adjust the sleeves of his coat, a royal blue jacket with an intricate golden embroidered on its front that made him seem like a fairy tale prince. Now that she thought about it, it wasn't only his well-tailored clothes that gave her that impression. Everything about the tall and elegant man in front of her, from his shinning riding boots to his remarkable smile reminded her about Cinderella's Prince Charming. She suppressed a smile.

She glanced at the TARDIS' door, averting her eyes from him before he could caught her staring, but there was still no sign of the Doctor. He probably had got distracted with something, now he was always doing things like that.

"So, are you enjoying your stay?" His voice was pleasant, as everything about him. And what were those eyes of his anyway?

"Yes, I am," she couldn't avoid a smile of her own when he grinned at her. "I didn't have the opportunity to see the place properly yet, but the Doctor have promised me a tour."

"Ah. Then, you are a lucky lady," he leaned against the rock next to her and crossed his arms in front of his chest in a very casual manner. "The Doctor is the most perfect guide, he knows this place better than anyone."

And she once more wondered who he was.

"Ask him to take you to the Crystal Caves," he continued. "It is my favorite place since I was a child."

"So do you use to come here too?"

"Mostly when I was a little boy, yes. My father used to bring us here all the time."

She was about to ask if his father was a friend of the King when the Doctor finally got out of the TARDIS grumbling something she didn't understand, as if he was cross with something. He stopped as soon as he saw that they had company.

"Doctor!" The man seemed to be really pleased to see the Time Lord and they both stared at each other for a brief moment before he added. "You look different."

"New haircut," a shadow of a smirk passed by the Doctor's lips and he crossed the distance between them with two long strides to bow his head slightly to the younger man. "You look different too, your Royal Highness."

"Beard," he grinned and extended a friendly hand to the Doctor. "And, please, leave the formalities for the palace, Doctor. There is no need for them in here."

Clara observed them with curiosity while they shook hands and noticed when the other man glanced at her. Getting the tip, the Doctor made the proper introductions.

"Allow me to introduce you my friend, Clara Oswald," the Doctor looked from him to her. "Clara, this is Prince Axel, the eldest son of the King of Hervellius, our host."

So that explained why he looked like a prince after all. He was a real one. She disguised her amazement the best she could, pushing back a giggle of excitement that she was sure it would be very inappropriate.

The Prince gave her a soft grin; his eyes fixed on hers when he held her hand and slightly bowed his head. "At your service, milady."

She did her best to ignore the heat on her cheeks under his intense gaze and made a small curtsy, unsure of how she should act around a real prince. They stared at each other for a brief moment until she broke eye contact, cheeks still burning.

"My father is very happy for having you back, Doctor," Prince Axel finally said, "and is longing to receive you at the palace." He pulled from his pocket a golden envelope and handed it to the Doctor. His piercing eyes moved back to Clara before he continued and she unconsciously fiddled with the zipper of her hoddie. "It's a invitation. We will be very honored if you and your lovely friend could attend the ball tomorrow, in celebration to the Queen's birthday."

The Doctor observed Clara from the corner of his eye, her flushed cheeks annoying him more than he could understand. In fact, he couldn't decide what annoyed him more, Prince Axel intense gaze upon Clara or her reactions towards the young man. That was just too disturbing.

"The honor will be ours, Prince Axel," the Doctor cracked a small smile and tried to distract himself from that thoughts. "Please, tell your father that we will be there. And send him my gratitude for receiving us in here."

"I will tell him," the Prince smiled once more. "Now, I will leave you to your exploration. I hope you'll enjoy it. My father keep the cottage stocked with food and other supplies, so feel free to use it, Doctor."

"Thank you, your Highness."

"With your permission, milady," the Prince bowed his head once more and she nodded. Then, with a last glance at Clara, he walked away, disappearing through a kind of luminous portal that had opened a few feet from them and just closed behind his back.

The Doctor observed the place where the portal had just vanished in silence, something in the back of his mind telling him that their mini-break would not happen it the way he had planned it, but not for the usual reasons.

"So, we have just been invited to a Royal Ball by a real prince?" Now that he had gone, she could barely contain herself, her big brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Technically, it was the King whom invited us." His jaw tensed at the thought that maybe she was more impressed with the Prince himself than with the entire Royal Ball and Palace affair.

"This is so amazing!" She covered her mouth with one hand but a giggle escaped through her fingers. "Did you know about it? That's why you brought us here?"

Of course he knew that the King, his old friend, would invite them to the Palace and that had been one of the reasons for him to choose that place from all other possibilities. The Royal Palace was an architecture marvel, an impressive and refined construction with equally wonderful gardens. Besides that, the King and the Queen, reliable old friends, were very kind and generous people and he was sure that Clara would love everything; from the wonders he could show her here, at the moon, to the incomparable gardens at the Palace and their friendly hosts. He hadn't anticipated the ball, of course, but he should see it as a bonus. Weren't for the Prince. The Doctor didn't know how to classify him and that made him start to regret his choice. Or maybe he was just overreacting.

Clara cleared her throat, still waiting for an answer, her eyes fixed on him with a frown.

"Didn't know about the ball," he muttered and walked away to stop just two steps ahead. "But that is for tomorrow. Still want to know the place?"

"Sure," she smiled brightly at him and for a second he felt his confidence coming back, knowing that she would love everything and they could have a lovely time together. "Where do we go first?"

"Crystal caves," he stated, moving his arm in an impatient gesture for her to join him.

* * *

They had been walking side by side along the beach for almost twenty minutes now, on their way to the Crystal Caves. The Doctor had barely said a word or even looked at her while they walked and that was unnerving her. Usually by now he would have told her a hundred facts about the place they were about to meet and would've made her another hundred of questions that he himself would answer with that shark grin that always showed up when he was excited. Instead, he was quiet, brooding.

"Is anything wrong?" She finally asked him, after a couple of unanswered questions about the caves. "You are too quiet."

"Nothing wrong." He said with a glance that didn't meet her eyes and she gripped his arm gently to stop him. There was something definitely wrong.

"Come on, Doctor. Tell me what is it. You don't do quiet."

His eyes were too serious when he looked at her but she thought that they softened when met hers.

"Oh, but I do. Sometimes."

"No, you don't! You are never quiet! You should be talking breathless, spilling out at once all your superior Time Lord intelligence know about this place until you make my little human brain dizzy. And not being quiet like this."

A shadow of a smug smile crossed his lip and Clara knew that her words had hit the target. It was always about his colossal ego with that one, the trick was to choose the right approach – a little rub or a bruise.

"Big surprise," he opened his arms, his face serious but the glint in his eyes betrayed him. "This is me, being quiet. Or at least trying hard despite your annoying insistence in make me talk."

Bantering. He was coming back to his usually self.

"So that is what this is going to be now?" She looked at him straight in the eyes. She loved bantering with him, even when she could see the shadow in his eyes. But she had to shake him out of the dark place he had been on the last twenty minutes or so. "You know that this is unfair. And if you want to play unfair I can do it too."

She approached him and he crossed his arms defiantly.

"You don't have many options, you know," she shortened the distance between them a little more but he didn't flinch.

"Right. You brought me here for having fun. And I want to have fun. So, you can chose," she pressed her forefinger at his chest with a challenging look at her eyes. "Put a smile on your face and start talking about the Crystal Caves or we will sit at the beach and I will torture you until you'll explain me what is annoying you."

He blinked. That was a terrifying prospect, so he made an effort in cheering up and pushed to the back of his mind his gloomy thoughts. In a couple minutes they would be at the Caves and despite his confusion, he knew that everything would vanish as soon as she'd flashed her bright smile. He looked at her worried eyes. He should tease her. He loved to tease her. Sometimes, teasing her was enough to made them both forget their worries, so he took his chance.

"Besides you?" The hint of amusement on his tone told her that it was safe for her to pretend to be cross with him and she did it, straightening her eyes menacingly at him. The Doctor tilted his head and held the finger she still kept against his chest, gently moving it away, ignoring the strange thought that maybe he should kiss its tip.

"Right. Crystal Caves, then," he said with a sigh and then added, "But, for the record, I'm fine." He started to walk again and cast a glance over his shoulder when she didn't move. "Are you coming or not?"

She shook her head slowly. But despite his lighter mood, she knew that there were things that he was not saying, things that he was hiding. And once more, she decided to let it be. She sighed. That seemed to happen with a sad frequency lately; she kept pretending to ignore his odd behavior and all the unspeakable questions that heavily hanged between them for fear of pushing him away. She just didn't know for how long she would be able to play that part and to keep lying to herself. To them both.

He turned his head around to look at her but kept walking. "Clara, come on!"

She quickly brushed away the thought and almost had to run to catch up with him, his long strides almost too much for her short legs. He was rambling about the caves now; his accent thicker than the usual a clear sign that whatever had disturbed him was still hanging around.

They finally found a small rock formation with the entrance for the caves. He guided her through a long and dark corridor of stone until they found the first larger salon from the complex of caves and she gapped at the sight.

The walls were covered by stone crystals that shone and flickered in all different colors creating a multitude of soft light rays around them, drawing amazing patterns on the walls and on the ground. She walked towards one of the walls and ran her hand over the stones. Immediately they changed to more vibrant colors, as if they were responding to her touch.

"This is amazing," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the walls observing the change of the colors under the touch of her fingers. Her smile widened while she tried to figure out how the right pressure could affect the color of the light ray.

The Doctor had his eyes fixed on her and resisted the urge to cover her delicate hand with his to show her how she could influence the color of the lights. She was almost getting into it. Besides, the light of her smile and of her velvety brown eyes were all the wonders his hearts needed to see right now.

She tilted her head to look at him. "Is it alright if the stones are becoming warmer?"

He nodded with a soft grin. "They are just reacting to your emotions. Remove your hand for a moment." She did as he had told her and the colors changed from shades of pink and orange to white and light blue. "See? They come back to their original colors."

She put her hand once more on the wall and the colors changed again, eliciting a small smile from her lips.

"Why don't you try?"

"Me? No." He shook his head and gave a step behind. He had already done that in a time that his soul was heavier and his hearts beat in an angrier pace. It hadn't been a pleasant experience, far from that. The explosion of dark lights around him had been a painful reminder of all his sins and the cold of the stones had burned the skin of his hands.

Now, he knew it would be different because he wasn't in that dark place anymore, he had changed, he had moved on. Even knowing that the darkness would always be part of who he was, it wasn't the blackened portions of his soul that he was afraid of baring to her. She already knew about that. She had already seen it before. What scared him most was that he didn't know how the cave would react to the erratic beating of his hearts, to the warm on his chest that her single presence caused on him. He wasn't ready to let her know about it. Not yet, when he hadn't been able to completely figure it out.

"It didn't work with me," he said finally, avoiding her eyes. "A Time Lord thing, I think."

She watched him for moment. He was lying, she could tell, again he was hiding something for her. And again, she wouldn't press him to know it.

"Of course not, how silly of me," she shot and waited for him to look at her again to tilt her head. "I keep forgetting that your superior lot don't succumb to silly emotions like us, the pudding brains. Which is a completely waste of heart since you have two."

They stared at each other for a moment. That wasn't going well at all and he wasn't sure of how he could fix it.

"It's not exactly like that. You know."

"No, I don't." How could she know if he never talked with her, she wanted to yell at him. Instead, she just sustained his gaze while the lights changed for more reds and purples. She sighed and removed her hand from the wall. "Can we go somewhere else?"


	4. Chapter 4

He followed Clara out of the caves in silence, desperately searching for the right words to say. But he suspected that even if he found them, they would come out of his mouth all wrong, as they usually did. Then maybe, being quiet wasn't a bad choice. Except that he needed to say something, if not to make things better, at least to avoid her to talk about any sensitive subject that could only, being who he was, made things worst.

So he chose the safest path and told her about the lake with pink waters that tasted like chocolate that it was just a short walk from where they were. She didn't look at him and the only sound she made was more like an indignant huff.

Then the Doctor told her about the luminescent fishes at the lake and how some of them had the ability of changing their shapes and colors, but that didn't impressed her or affected her mood, on the contrary. He almost flinched when she gave him a stern glance over her shoulder and continued her angry pace to wherever she was going.

He suppressed a sigh. That was why he didn't like to make holidays plans. Things always ended up in the worst possible way every single time.

Although the Doctor still didn't understand completely why, he knew that it was his fault that she was cross with him. So he gave another try and finally managed to catch her attention when he told her about the singing butterflies that lived in the woods next to the lake and how the Hervellians believed that they were fairies.

Noticing the subtle change in her eyes, he continued talking and explained her everything he could remember about the so called fairies, including their alleged magic powers to concede wishes and to ward off the evil while he lead her first to the lake. Because who wouldn't like to taste chocolate pink waters anyway? Except that she didn't seem to be really interested in lakes and chocolate.

If the lake didn't make much to light her mood, at the end, were the singing butterflies that saved their day. The vision of the delicate bright blue insects flying around them among the trees put a genuine smile on her face. His hearts raced madly in his chest at the sound of her bubbly laughter when some of them approached her and she was able to touch them with the tip of her fingers.

He couldn't help but smile at the singularity of the scene in front of his eyes. And it were with worshiping eyes that he watched her spinning around herself with open arms, surrounded by the shinning small creatures as their soft song filled the air.

Clara looked at him, a broad smile on her face, when two butterflies landed on her hand, the glint on the brown of her eyes was able to bright the darkest of his days. She grabbed his arm and gently moved one of the butterflies to his hand and he chuckled heartily when the little one climbed his long fingers.

"Make a wish, Doctor," she grinned at him softly.

"Don't be silly," he grumbled, "this is only an old children tale." Despite his grumpy words, his eyes searched for hers for a brief moment. Fairy with magic powers or not, he decided to do as he had been told and in the secret of his beating hearts he wished that she could be happy, deeply and truly happy, no matter what that would cost him.

* * *

They were in a good mood when they finally reached the beach still in time to watch the double sunset. She seemed to be tired but he could tell by the spark on her eyes that she had enjoyed their day as much as he, despite all the little bumps in the middle of the road.

Since they were near the cottage, he suggested that they should stop there so they could rest a little while they waited for the sunset. The Doctor got inside to fetch them some food from the kitchen and Clara waited for him there, sitting at the front step.

He came back later with a two glasses and a bottle of something he knew to be very much alike wine and hand them to her. A small frown showed up at her brow but there was a small smile on the corner of her lips when she asked if he had forgotten about the food.

"Of course not," his smart smirk made her giggle and he ran back inside just to come back a minute later with a plate with slices of dry fruit and something that seemed to be cheese. He gave her the plate and took his place next to her on the front step before he poured them two glasses, offering her one of them.

They ate in a comforting silence for a long moment and he allowed himself to watch her. She seemed to be lost in thought, her eyes observing the ocean in front of them while she casually sipped her wine.

"This is good," she finally said. "What is it?"

"The closest thing to wine you will find at this part of space-time," he smiled and filled her glass once more when she raised her empty one.

"Doctor?" She asked him quietly and he just raised one eyebrow at her. "What did you wish for the singing fairies?"

He avoided her eyes. There was no way he would tell her, not even under torture. "Do you know that they aren't really fairies, don't you? And that their singing is only the result of the breeze on their moving wings?" He tried to seem unaffected, chewing one more piece of the thing that seemed and also tasted like cheese, trying to decide whether he liked it or not.

She rolled her eyes and bumped at his shoulder with her own letting out a low chuckle. "Can't you be just a little bit romantic?"

He didn't dare to answer that one. If it weren't by her teasing tone he could've interpreted her last words as a flirt. But of course it wasn't a flirt. They didn't do such things as flirting. Even though, he was forced to hide his flushed cheeks drinking some more wine.

"Come on, Doctor, don't lie to me. I know you'd made a wish." She was still grinning with that teasing spark on her eyes. Or maybe it was just the wine.

"Since when did you start to read minds?" He scoffed and looked at the plate as if the dry fruits had just become the most interesting things at the universe.

"I don't need that to know that you'd really made a wish," her lips curled in a mischievous smile that widened when he raised his confused eyes at her. "I saw when you closed your eyes for a moment."

He opened his mouth to counter but didn't find anything sharp enough to say. He had been shamefully caught making wishes to a blue butterfly that at most knew how to move her wings in the right angle to produce beautiful sounds under the breeze.

"I can't tell you my wish or it won't become real."

She laughed. "So you really made a wish!"

He blinked at her and it took him a couple of seconds to realize that she had bluffed. He furrowed his eyebrows at her but he wasn't really mad at her, not while she was smiling at him like that.

"You played dirty, Clara Oswald."

She giggled and touched his hand fondly. "I know, I'm sorry. But what other way I had to make the big bad Time Lord confess that there is a part of him that still believe in fairy tales?"

He huffed in feigned indignation and she leaned her head on his shoulder, enlacing her arm on his, and he closed his eyes, the soft scent of her hair filling his lungs.

"Some of them are true," he muttered in her hair.

She raised her head to look at him and sensing her movement, he opened his eyes again to see her face really close to his. Too close. He swallowed hard but sustained her gaze, unable to avert his eyes from her sparkling brown ones.

"I know," she whispered, her lips now a mere inches from his.

Next thing he took notice were her lips against his and he stiffened under her touch. Her lips were soft and warm and her fingers touched his cheek so gently that was almost like they weren't there. His mind instantly went blank and although something in the back of it kept telling him that he should do something with his own lips or maybe do something with his arms he wasn't able to move a single muscle, not even to breath. After a second he thought that even one of his hearts had stopped.

Once he knew what to so on moment like this, about that he was sure. He also knew that he had already done it before countless times on his long life. Not on his body, obviously, and just a few times with someone that meant so much to him as Clara did. So he struggled to reach the memories lost in the depths of his mind. She was there kissing him and that surely had to mean something to her because it meant everything to him.

Then, it stroke him, like something had just clicked inside him and he finally understood the dull ache plaguing his chest. And that was what ended up shutting down his brain - the realization that he had yearned for that for so long, and the acknowledgment that she, Clara, his Clara, was everything he needed and longed for. She meant everything to him. Everything.

* * *

After a moment of no reaction from him, she broke the kiss and moved back putting some space between them, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. She must have misinterpreted the signs and right now she would like to hide her stupid head at the first hole she could find.

But his eyes had searched for hers all the time and he had been so gentle and charming along the day, exception made for the entire Crystal Caves episode, that for a moment her heart had tricked her and she left herself to be carried away by her emotions.

She stood up abruptly and didn't dare to look at him for pure fear of what she would find in his eyes. His cold response to her kiss had been enough humiliation. Before he could say or do anything, she muttered an apology blaming the wine and added a barely recognizable "I am sorry" moving away from him a couple more steps in an attempt to compose herself.

Fortunately he said nothing and she quickly excused herself telling him that she would go back to the TARDIS to rest and to find a proper gown for the ball on the next day. Without wait for a response, she turned on her heels and made her way up the hill where the blue box was still parked, cursing herself for being so stupid and praying that her thoughtless gesture didn't ruin their relationship. He was always so confused with emotions that she couldn't even think in how he would react to that. She would talk to him later, if he wanted to, which she doubted. Anyway, right now all she needed was a place to hide her tears from him and to put her thoughts and feelings in order.

* * *

He heard his own hearts shattering on the ground when she moved away. He wanted to say something to stop her, but the words just failed him.

The moment that had been a revelation to him had been a mistake to Clara and he couldn't remember when words had burnt him more than the ones she had just said to him.

His fingers touched the place where her lips had been just a moment before, his lips still burning, still desperately missing hers, while his eyes followed her walking back to the TARDIS. If she regretted it so much to run away from him like that, he had to believe her.

They were friends and he had to accept what she was able to give him because he knew how miserable life could be without her. So, he should lick his wounds, move on and try to be ok with that. Except that he wasn't.

He stood there for a long time trying to put some perspective on everything that had happened between them so far. The problem was that he couldn't think clear, not with all the confused emotions that raced on his chest blurring his mind. He was pretty sure that if he'd sonic him he would be a mess of chemicals.

So it took him a hundred miles of angry pacing at the porch and two more bottles of the King's wine like drink to figure out that maybe her behavior had been nothing more than a reaction to his own lack of response when she had kissed him. He couldn't be sure; he had never been an expert on the matters of the heart, even having two.

The Doctor let out a heavy sigh. He hadn't always been like that. Long time ago, when people called him by another name, he hadn't been so afraid of baring his soul to someone else. But then he was so much younger, so naïve and so completely unaware of what burdens life would present to him. He had been happy for sometime, this other him. Memories of lazy mornings spent on the loving arms of someone, of lingering touches and entangled limbs; of sweet endearments whispered in the silence of the night and of the surrender to the dance of colors touching his mind and burning his skin popped up on his mind. But that had happened before, when he wasn't him yet, in a forgotten time, when he wasn't the Doctor.

He sat down again and closed his eyes. He had loved again before that, he, the Doctor, of course he had. A few times he had left his guard down enough to let someone in, even knowing that it would only lead to heartbroken. And finally, Trenzalore had changed everything, making him believe that he wasn't able to do that anymore.

And maybe he really wasn't, considering the recent events between him and Clara. So the best he could do now was forget about that and be there for her, be the friend she needed by her side, even if he had to bury his feelings once more.

* * *

Clara had been lost in thought, trying to distract her mind of the disaster she had provoked earlier and tried to focus her attention in finding the perfect gown for the ball at the TARDIS wardrobe.

She hadn't seen the Doctor after her cowardly escape from earlier, but that had been necessary, she needed a time for herself. Now she was worried about him and about how he would react at all that. For all that she knew, he could disappear inside the TARDIS for days or just pop up in there at any moment, talking breathless about some random discovery as if nothing had happened.

She sighed. How silly of her to think that she could read him, as if he was an ordinary person. She almost laughed. Ordinary was a word she could never, ever apply to him.

Her fingers ran trough the soft fabric of a blue dress and she picked it to take a look. It was still a mystery for her how all those clothes were there, probably the TARDIS made them all by herself, because the idea of the Doctor shopping for clothes was something really unthinkable.

"Clara?" His uncertain voice coming from her back startled her.

"Hi," she forced a smile, relieved that at least he wasn't avoiding her. It must be a good sign, but she couldn't know with him. "I didn't hear you coming in."

"The door was open," he leaned against the doorframe and shoved his hands on his pockets, looking anywhere but her.

"How is your quest for the perfect gown?" He said trying to sound nonchalant, but she could say that he was pretending because he still didn't look at her.

"Doctor?" She bit her lower lip and waited for him to look at her, which he did with hesitant eyes. "I'm really, really sorry."

His eyebrows moved up in an almost imperceptible way. "Please, don't be," he finally said shifting his weight from one leg to another.

"I shouldn't-"

"Everything is fine, Clara," he showed her a bashful smile and moved closer to her taking a look at the dress she had on her hands. Maybe he was really cool with that. "Picked one already?"

She blinked a few times, and shook her head, feeling the need to tell him something else, to explain herself to him but he was already with his mind somewhere else, his eyes searching the rack full of clothes with an odd expression at his face.

"Ha." He pulled another gown from the rack and showed her. "Forget about the blue one. Red suits you better."

Her eyes widened in surprise. Today was being a roller coaster with him. He had changed from scared and shy to a fashion consultant in a second. How couldn't she be confused?

Still eyeing him, she gave him the blue one to take a better look at the one he had chosen. It was a really beautiful dress in a dark red satin, strapless, with yards of skirt and a beautifully jeweled embroidered bodice. Even reluctantly she had to admit that his choice was better than hers. The tiny smile tugging on his lips told her that he knew that already.

"Isn't red too much for a Royal Ball?"

He cocked an eyebrow and put his hands back at his pockets just to flip the red lining of his coat. "Anything against red?"

"No," she suppressed a smile.

"I knew you haven't," he rewarded her with a smile of his own and walked to the door. "Now, take some rest, we are being expected at the palace on the morning."


	5. Chapter 5

Clara looked around in wonderment while they followed the Captain of the King's Guard, the sound of their footsteps echoing on the marble floor. They were crossing a long corridor; its high stonewalls covered with paintings portraying incredible landscapes and scenes of great battles. Ancient battles from a time where the planet had to fight for its freedom, the Doctor had explained her while they walked.

At the end of the corridor, two guards promptly saluted the Captain and at his sign, opened the large wooden door carved with symbols Clara couldn't recognize, granting them passage to another corridor. Differently from the previous one, this had tall windows that allowed the sunlight in making its white walls glimmer slightly. Through the windows she could see green gardens and a big fountain showering sprays of colorful water. Large stone pillars towered on their right and, on the space that separated each one of them, there were marble busts of long-dead Kings, as the Doctor told her.

They reached a large hall, which buzzed in agitation with the coming and going of people with the preparations for the ball. After another corridor equally decorated with paintings and sculptures, they stopped in front of a door and waited outside at the Captain's request while he disappeared behind it.

After a quick moment, the door swung open and the Captain invited them into what turned out to be a huge library, probably as big as the one at the TARDIS. Sat at an elegant library couch close to the windows, a couple waited for them with similar gentle smiles on their faces, their books forgotten on their laps.

The Doctor gracefully bowed his head to them and Clara followed his lead, mimicking him. The King stood up and walked towards them to shake the Doctor's hand, with the same affection showed by his son on the other day and equally telling them how honored they were to have them there.

The Queen joined them taking the hand the King's had offered her with a fluid and elegant motion of her arm. Her beauty was remarkable, with the same blue eyes and reddish hair Clara had seen on her son. But it was the kindness of her smile and the warm of her voice that caught Clara's attention and brought back cherished memories of her own mother, making her instantly connect with the older woman.

They already knew about her, probably through their son, and seemed really delighted when Clara revealed that she was a teacher what earned her an enthusiastic explanation from the King about his remarkable library. He escorted her among numerous shelves, showing her some of their most rare volumes while the Doctor and the Queen walked behind them chatting in a surprisingly friendly way.

Well, surprisingly for the Doctor, this Doctor. Friendly wasn't exactly a word one could apply to him nowadays. Although, there he was, smiling and making small talk with the Queen. But obviously, the Doctor being the Doctor, he couldn't resist the urge of also making clever comments about the books the King was showing to Clara, in his usual smart-ass-show-off manner.

Fortunately, their hosts didn't seem to care about the Doctor's annoying behavior; on the contrary, they seemed to be amused by that, as she caught them exchanging knowing looks. Clara couldn't tell the extent of their friendship, but certainly, they had much more patience than she.

After their private tour at the library and before Clara could lose her temper and smack the Doctor in the head, the Captain escorted them to their quarters, a set of comfortable twin bedrooms joined at the center by a small but cozy sitting room. With a bow, he left them on their own after explaining that the two servants that were assigned to attend them could be summoned at any time by the pull of the lever beside their respective beds.

Clara felt the Doctor's eyes watching her while she inspected the place around them. Their bedrooms were just alike, decorated in light colors and with evident good taste. Both had a big canopy bed at the center filled with fluffy pillows and a large white duvet. One armchair rested at one corner next to a door that should be the bathroom, or so Clara expected. On the opposite side, French glass doors covered by silken white curtains gave access to a balcony from where one could see the gardens.

The bag that she had packed earlier at the TARDIS was over her bed and her gown had been carefully placed on a hanger next to the bedroom's door. What was where she found the Doctor, casually leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed in front of his chest, watching her. His eyebrows rose slightly in a silent question.

"I could get used to this, you know," she grinned.

"Nothing that the TARDIS can't provide you, if you ask her, you know," he moved his hands to his pockets trousers watching her throw herself on her back at the comfortable bed.

"As if she would listen to any of my requests," Clara chuckled, stretching her body against the softness of the mattress.

The Doctor gave a couple of hesitant steps inside as if deciding if he would join her at the bed or take the armchair. Ultimately he opted for the last and she was grateful for that. They had already had their share of awkward moments for a while.

"You should give a try. The old girl still can surprise you," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Clara turned around and lied on her stomach, propping herself on her elbows to raise her head and have a better look of him.

"Seriously? Knowing her, she will change my bedroom into a dirty and humid dungeon. Or probably fill it with snakes or crocodiles. Maybe both!" Her mocking tone made him roll his eyes at her. Clara giggled, but added in a lighter tone. "I'm not complaining. I kind of like my TARDIS' bedroom. It's cozy and it had my stuff around."

"Yeah, all over the place," he muttered in his usual grumpy mood and made an impatient motion with his arm. "For a teacher you can be really messy sometimes, you know."

"Oi! I'm not messy!" She glared at him. "Besides, you are the one who keep losing things inside your own ship."

"I don't lose things," he huffed, "They just happen not to be at their expected places nowadays." He stood up and walked to the balcony doors to watch the gardens for a moment, and then, spun around quickly, flickering the red lining of his coat. "Ready for a walk through the gardens? They have this incredible collection of exotic plants and flowers from the entire universe. Maybe they have some from Earth too, but I think they are all from future Earth, so you won't probably recognize none of them," he furrowed his brow for a second as deeply in thought, but then his features softened again, eyes sparkling, "Anyway, do you know how to ride a horse?"

Before Clara could open her mouth to answer him, the Doctor was already pulling her to her feet and dragging her by her hand through the doors as he rambled about the incredible winged horses that King kept at his stables and the possibility of them taking a try.

She couldn't refrain a giggle, gladly relieved that everything seemed to be normal despite her yesterday's resounding fiasco. Even if in the solitude of her heart all the things that remained unsaid between them still burned.

\- 0 – 0 -

He looked at his own reflex on the mirror and adjusted his tie, still pleased of having found a dark red one and a matching vest that were of the same color of her dress. With a final glance, he walked towards his bedroom door and opened it.

Clara was already there, at the sitting room waiting for him and seemed to be lost in thought, watching the night sky through the windows. He stood there, in silence, looking at her, memorizing how the candle lights cast flickers of red and gold at her hair and how her dress adjusted perfectly to the gentle curves of her body.

She suddenly turned around, probably startled for his persistent gaze upon her. Her face softened when she saw him and her eyes sparkled when they met his, making his hearts flutter and his lungs forget how to breathe.

She was beautiful, at least he thought her so. He wasn't immune to it, as one could think, far from that. But he could see so much more in Clara Oswald than the pink perfection of her lips or the gentle curve of her neck. For him, she had the light of the supernovas inside her eyes and the fire of burning suns in her heart.

"Hey, look at you, all dapper in your fancy clothes," Clara's face lit up in a soft smile as she slowly walked towards him.

How he wished in that moment that he could tell her how beautiful she was, not only now, but how beautiful she had always been and would always be at his eyes. But he knew enough about himself to not even try. This new him was completely rubbish at putting words to his feelings, especially about her, converting any possible attempt to compliment her in a harsh remark.

"Likewise," he stood with the basics, not taking any other risk than a bashful smile to be rewarded with one of hers. With a small bow of his head, he offered her his arm but she ignored it to finally close the distance between them. He watched her with a wary look while her delicate fingers adjusted the knot of his tie.

"There," she patted his arm fondly and stepped back to look at him, making him blush. "I really like your vest," she grinned and he couldn't help but join her, secretly satisfied that she had noticed his effort. "Now, we can go," she slipped her hand on the crook of his arm and tilted her head to look at him. "Shall we?"

His eyes softened a little and he felt a smile tugging his lips upwards. "Yes, boss."

\- 0 – 0 -

They were sitting there for sometime now, sipping blue champagne from tall flutes and watching the couples that spun elegantly at the sound of the orchestra. He was pretending to ignore the gentle sway of her body following the sound of music and her frequently hopeful glances at him by telling her everything he knew about the Hervellians and their ancient culture.

"What?" He gave her a wary look when she stared at him for a long moment.

"Well, we are in a ball," she tilted her head slightly.

"'Course we are, Clara," a crease formed on his brow and he motioned his hand impatiently at the dance floor. "I thought that was obvious."

"And there is good music," she continued, ignoring his snarky remark, "and people dancing." Her eyebrows raised just a little, her brown eyes fixed on him as he should know why she had suddenly became the queen of obvious. He blinked trying to find the right meaning behind her words because certainly there was one, but he got distracted by the velvet of her brown eyes and was forced to avert his gaze to regain some composure.

"Are you really that dense or are you just pretending?"

Despite her words, her tone was light and she smiled at him when he looked back at her. He opened his mouth to protest but Clara didn't give him a chance, pulling him by his hand.

"Come on, Doctor, be nice and dance with me."

"No, no, no," he freed his hand from her and raised both of his in defense with a grumpy look. "I don't dance."

"Of course you dance! We are at a ball, everybody dances. Please?" She ventured a smile, her pleading big brown eyes fixed on his.

"I don't," he muttered and averted his gaze, aware of the real danger of continuing looking at her.

Clara rolled her eyes at him and he knew that she was on the verge of losing her composure. "Oh, come on, Doctor! You can't bring a girl to a ball and don't ask her to dance!"

"That's completely true," Prince Axel's confident voice silenced him before he could say a word. "But fortunately, this is something I can help," the young man extended a gloved hand to Clara. "Miss Clara, would you give me the honor?"

It was with veiled dismay that the Doctor watched them walk to the dance floor. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair when the Prince placed a hand on her waist and started to lead her in precise and elegant dance steps.

The Doctor did his best to hide his annoyance behind his glass, but his eyes never stop to follow them. He felt his nails digging into his palms when the Prince spun her around, making her laugh. He knew he should leave, maybe go for a walk at the gardens, or try to find someone with whom he could have a good talk about anything to distract himself, but he just couldn't move.

So he stood there for a long time, punishing himself, drinking alone and watching while Clara amused herself in the company of another man.

_"__Tell her."_

The words sounded clear and loud inside his head and startled him. The thought wasn't his, it was someone else's, clearly projected on his mind and that was really frightening for more than one reason. He snapped his head and looked around, his eyes carefully searching the crowd for a knowing face and finally stopping when he found the Queen.

Her lips curled into a gentle smile and she slightly bowed her head. Right. He knew that the Queen was a telepath. But that wasn't supposed to happen. No one could invade his thoughts unless he allowed.

_"__How are you doing this?"_

_"__You are vulnerable, Doctor, and let your guard down enough for me to reach you. But don't worry, I didn't see a thing."_

He watched her while she approached him and stood up when she stopped at his front. "Not inside of your mind, anyway," she spoke this time and took the free sit next to him, motioning her hand for him to do the same. "I don't need telepathy to recognize the symptoms."

The Doctor looked at her for a moment before he spoke. "I'm not sure if I know what are you talking about, your Majesty."

She chuckled, his flushed cheeks telling her exactly the contrary. "Denial it's not a solution, you know."

"I'm not in denial," he tried to sound more confident than he really was, but his eyes completely betrayed him, dragged by Clara's smile when she and the Prince passed in front of them dancing. The Queen just raised her eyebrows at him and he ran a hand through his hair, sighing in defeat

_"__Tell her. Believe me, there is nothing to fear about it."_

Again he heard her words inside his head and looked at her, alarmed.

"Sorry," she showed him a coy grin. "There's not much telepaths at this part of the universe. I think I missed this."

He almost smiled in sympathy but lowered his gaze to his hands over the table. He knew that feeling too well to not relate to it. Her gentle hand on his arm made him look at her once more.

"She deserves to know the truth."

The honesty on her eyes caught him by surprise.

"I just can't… I…" Damn. The woman was about to rip out of him a confession he hadn't the courage to do to himself. He looked at her. "You know enough about me to understand how much this would be wrong."

She watched him for a long moment taking in his words.

"You're right, Doctor," she finally said. "I really do know you. And I also know too well how much damage such deep feelings can do when kept in the shadows for too long." They exchanged a long and silent look before she spoke once more. "You are better than that and she is stronger than you think," she stood up and he immediately mimicked her. "Tell her, Doctor."

With a last smile, she left him alone with his thoughts, the weight of her words hanging around him for much more time than he should have allowed it.

\- 0 – 0 -

He sneaked out to an empty balcony looking for a breath of fresh air, trying to push back the effects of a painful combination of too much drinking and overthinking. There was no way of him waking up next morning without a headache, he was sure about that.

His eyes wandered on the night sky over his head and he tried to distract himself nominating all the constellations and planets he could see from there. Somewhere near an opened door let out the sounds of the party inside, muffled again when the door was closed.

But was the sound of voices and laughter coming from the gardens down there that annoyed him and interrupted his train of thought making him to start over. Then his eyes recognized her unmistakable silhouette lit up by the moonlight. He blinked as if that could make her disappear, because what he saw only disturbed him more.

Clara and the Prince were walking slowly, her hand resting on the crook of the Prince's arm in the same way she used to do with him. From where he was, he couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could see her lovely smile under the light of the torches, and that was like a sting on his hearts.

All his instincts told him go away; to not stay, but for an unknown reason he couldn't move or avert his eyes from them. His hands clenched into fists when they stopped, Axel's hand touching her arm gently. The young man told her something and after a moment he slowly leaned into her to press his lips on hers.

And it hurt. It burned his insides and cut him like a thousand of knifes. And yet he was unable to move, unable to breath, his eyes drowned to the scene. What was that sharp pain on his chest that threatened to tear him apart?

Deciding that he had already seen too much, he finally turned on his heels and moved away from there, as fast as he could, to the safety of the TARDIS. The blue box's door closed behind him with a bang and he walked to the console, leaning against it in an attempt to regain his balance when his knees seemed to fail him.

He knew it was wrong to feel like that when they were just friends. He had been the one who had established the limits of their relationship. But he didn't know how to avoid his hearts to be shattered all over again.

He should've known. He was just an old and mad man in a blue box, one of her hobbies, her grumpy alien friend who showed her the universe. She would never see him differently. He felt his nails digging on the soft skin of his palms when he clenched his fists. He had been a fool, an idiot. The heavy sigh that let out his lips did nothing to ease the pressure on his chest.

When had he fallen so hard for her?

\- 0 – 0-

As soon as his lips touched hers she lowered her head slightly and stepped behind, silently asking herself how she didn't see that coming. Maybe it had been the champagne or her own delight with all this Palace-ball-prince thing. Or maybe she was just feeling too lonely. But that was a terrible mistake, for more reasons than she could tell.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, unsure of what to say, of what to do. Her cheeks were burning and she needed to close her eyes for a moment to recollect herself. That was definitely wrong.

"Don't be," Axel said in a gentle voice, his fingers brushing hers so softly that was almost if they weren't there. "I'm the one who need to apologize."

She raised her eyes to look at him and he showed her a faint smile.

"It was never my intention to offend you, Clara."

"You didn't. It's just that I… I can't…" She couldn't find the words to tell him but he seemed to understand what she was feeling. He held her hand gently this time.

"I should've known that your heart belongs to someone else," he smiled. "I saw the signs, but I chose to ignore them." There was a hint of sadness on his tone when he continued. "I thought that I might have a chance."

She returned his smile with one of her own and he stared at her for a moment.

"Go find him," he gently squeezed her hand. "And please, tell him."

She blushed furiously, her eyes widening in surprise that this man in front of her was able to read the feelings she had been so fiercely denying.

"I… I just can't." She couldn't. How could she? How could she find the courage to tell the Doctor the true so carefully hidden in her heart? Especially after his cold reaction to a simple kiss? He would freak out and disappear for years. Maybe forever. And she couldn't bear to lose him. Not anymore. Things were good in the way they were, weren't they?

"Why not?" Axel's soft voice took her out of her reverie.

She sighed. "It's… complicated."

"Do you love him?"

She opened her mouth to speak but the words didn't come out. Knowing the truth was one thing. Telling that out loud was something completely different. He watched her for a moment longer before he spoke again. Maybe her silence had told him more than she would like.

"Just tell him what is in your heart."

She watched him for a moment, thinking that maybe the man in front of her was the real Prince Charming.


	6. Chapter 6

Clara walked back to the ballroom, but the Doctor was nowhere to be seen. With the Prince's words still echoing in her mind, she looked for the missing Time Lord through the palace, still unsure of what to do.

The Doctor was still a mystery to be solved, a man that kept himself behind thick walls, confounding her all the time with his mixed signs. But in the depths of her heart, she knew that he wasn't the only one to blame. She had also kept her cards too close to her chest for long enough to be as guilty as him in keeping them both dancing in the dark.

It had been fun at the beginning, to run across the stars with his floppy-haired-bow-tied-self, reckless playing that dangerous and juvenile flirtation game, ignoring feelings that slowly started to grow deep roots in her heart. The shock of his regeneration and the completely change of his demeanor after that had almost placed a stone over the revelation of her own feelings for him.

Sometimes, she would like to be strong enough to bury all that and just move on. And in a way, she even had tried to do it, to live a normal human life. Memories of the last year, of Danny and the Doctor, flashed on her mind in a spiral that could easily make her insane: the love she lost and the love she never really had.

Sweet and brave Danny. The scars were still too fresh to not burn at the thought of him. She knew that time would make it easier, but he would always have a part of her heart.

Clara closed her eyes for a second. That had been her worst mistake: believe that she could love Danny in the way he deserved to be loved when her heart wasn't hers to give to him. How could she if her heart was divided between her love for two men? How could she promise her love to him if deep inside she would be always yearning for something else, would be always waiting for something more and, in all that, would be forever broken?

Guilt and sorrow promised to have the best of her, but she shook off that feelings. She wouldn't fall, not again.

Maybe it was time to do something about that, maybe it was time for mending the wounds or for shattering her heart at once, and then, collect the pieces and move on.

But the sight of the place where the Doctor had parked the TARDIS earlier that afternoon empty, made her heart tighten in her chest.

* * *

The Queen met her at the staircase and seemed to instantly take notice of her distress.

"The Doctor came back to the moon where you've first landed yesterday in his blue box," her gentle eyes tried to soothe Clara. "I can provide you a travel portal to there, if you want."

"I'll be immensely grateful, your Majesty."

* * *

Stepping out of the portal, Clara found herself just in front of the TARDIS, parked at the exactly same place it had been when they first got there.

The door opened with a low creaking to reveal the dim lights on the inside, but she couldn't see him. Adjusting her eyes to the darkness, she noticed her surroundings and instantly knew that he had been out for more than just a couple of hours. There were books scattered on the floor, the blackboards, before filled with symbols and equations now had only incomprehensible gibberish. The clothes he had wore at the ball, the jacket, tie and vest, were carelessly discarded upon the console, next to a glass half full of something she thought to be scotch by the scent.

She finally spotted him, at his armchair at the balcony, his long legs stretched out and a hand half covering his eyes.

He didn't move when she approached, her shoes clapping on the metal floor of the staircase. She could see his eyes closed trough his fingers and despite the soft raising and fall of his chest, somehow she knew that he wasn't asleep.

"Hey," her voice echoed in the silence of the ship but he didn't say a thing, nor even opened his eyes. "You disappeared last night," she continued, cautiously studying his unmovable figure, his persistent silence making her uneasy. "I couldn't find you."

He finally uncovered his face and opened his eyes, staring at her for a long and uncomfortable moment. The unexpected sliver of ice in his eyes made a shiver run down her spine and she felt her throat constricted, sensing that something was terribly wrong.

"You've found me now," his cold tone only increased her confusion. He was cross, but she knew him enough to know there was something else, something deeper, and that frightened her.

"I was worried," she continued and gave a couple more steps, approaching him. All the time his steely cold eyes followed her.

"Why?"

His question sounded more like an accusation. Her eyes peered through his hardened face while she closed the distance between them to stand just in front of him.

"Because I care for you," she sustained his gaze, challenging her nerves, noticing the shadow of stubble on his chin. She wondered how long he had been out.

He lowered his head and shook it slowly in frustration. A pair of angry eyes looked back at her when he raised his head again.

"I thought you were having fun with your Prince."

There it was. It was jealousy in his eyes? Hurt maybe. But why? And what right had him to talk to her like that, like she had cheated on him? Before she could go any further, she caught a glimpse of his hand over the armrest and her sudden anger started to change back into worry again.

"What did happen to your hand?" She knelt beside him.

"Nothing," he quickly tried to hide it but she was faster than him and had already grabbed his wrist to take a look.

It seemed really bad, there were small cuts and dry blood on his knuckles, and a couple of purple and red marks in his swallowed hand. He flinched slightly when she touched it.

"It's broken."

"No, it's not," once more he tried to pull it back, but her firm grip on his wrist prevented him.

"Doctor?" She used her best teacher tone to make him speak. It usually worked on him, even when he was cross. A low sigh escaped his lips and he looked away from her.

"I might have hit it on something," he finally said, shifting on his seat, making a new attempt to free his hand from her grasp.

"Something?" She raised her eyebrows. "Like what? A door?"

His jaw clenched like he was struggling against an imminent tantrum. But she wouldn't have any of it.

"A wall," he muttered and she controlled her urge to smack him on the head. Stupid, stupid Time Lord, punching a wall. That didn't explain the cuts, but she decided not to pressure the matter any further.

"Come on. I will take care of this," she stood up and gently pulled his arm but he didn't move.

"Don't need to bother!" His good hand waved in a dismissive motion, his eyes flashing in anger. "Just go back to your dashing Prince and-"

"Oh, shut up!" She pointed him a menacing finger, finally losing her temper. "Just shut up! I can't understand why you are acting like a massive idiot. Or at least I'm really trying to ignore it right now because you have a broken hand that needs to be cared," she stopped to breath for a second before she continued. "And don't even think about giving me that beautiful speech of yours about how your bloody superior Time Lord physiology function because I'm not in the mood to deal with your arrogance right now!"

She walked towards the stairs with large and angry strands and stopped at the top of it to look at him, the fury on his eyes mirroring hers.

"I will be at the med bay when you stop being an ass," she turned on her heels and went down stairs in a hurry. But before she left the control room she looked up at the central column, shaking her arms in frustration, this time directing her angry to the ship.

"And you, you old cow, don't even try to move the corridors and hide the rooms!"

The TARDIS emitted a low hiss in protest and Clara ignored the flicker of the lights when she walked down the corridor. At the end, the ship didn't interfere, maybe because she knew too well that her stubborn Time Lord wouldn't take care of himself right now.

Most for Clara's surprise, the med bay was in fact the first door she found. She patted the wall silently thanking the ship before entering the room and starting to pace it like a caged animal.

When did the things between them start to be so complicated?

* * *

Clara didn't know how long she had been in there when the door finally slid open to reveal his disheveled figure. The Doctor stood at the doorway for a long and agonizing second, fidgeting with the hem of his untucked shirt, before he walked in. With a couple of hesitant steps, he finally took the chair in front of her, not daring to look into her eyes, for which she was momentarily grateful.

Placing his hand carefully over the table, Clara cleaned up the cuts and applied the same antiseptic she had once seen him using. From the corner of her eyes she saw his pained expression; his shoulders tensed at every motion of her fingers and she bit her lower lip, sympathizing with his pain.

After she finished it, he touched her hand to stop her to continue and she was forced to look at him for the first time since he had gotten there. Their eyes met briefly when he asked her to apply another medicine on his hand, one that would help to heal the internal damage faster. His voice was bare and raw and didn't betray any kind of emotion, as if the cold and anger had never been there before. With his guidance, she found the small flask inside a small cabinet and carefully applied it on his hand.

While she bandaged his hand, the heavy silence around them was only broke by his hiss of pain. He tensed his arm and she apologized, raising her eyes to find his fixed on her. After a quick second, he averted his eyes, but the initial barrier had been broken. Then, like a little game of hide and seek, their eyes tried to rebuild a path to each other, slowly putting down the walls their voices hadn't been able till now.

It took him a little while to finally stand up after she had finished her work. His eyes were fixed at the tip of his shoes when he muttered his thanks and turned around, heading to the door. But Clara prevented him to go away holding him by his good hand, a simple question leaving her lips in a hoarse voice.

"Why?"

The Doctor kept his back at her, lowering his head, his long silence and the slump on his shoulders threatening to break her in pieces.

"I thought that things had changed, after Christmas," his voice trailed off and he had to clear his throat to proceed. "I saw you two last night, and I-"

"Look at me," Clara interrupted him. She couldn't be wrong, could she? But even if she were, she wouldn't let him go away without knowing the true. He was acting like a cheated boyfriend and that could only... She sighed. Damn. What a big mess they were. When he didn't move, she gently tugged on his hand. "Please."

After a moment longer, he slowly turned around and looked at her, sadness darkening the blue of his eyes. He peered at her face, his eyes openly searching for hers, and she felt a lump forming on her throat. With some hesitation, she raised her hand and gently stroked his cheek, her fingers sliding to his chin and the roughness of his stubble tingled her fingertips.

"How long have you been out?" He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. "A couple of days."

She needed a moment to take in his words. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded soft and clear.

"Talk to me, Doctor. Tell me why," she murmured, feeling her heart beating hard inside her chest.

He hesitated briefly, but opened his eyes to look at her and what she saw in them was all the admission she needed.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "I'm just..." He sighed, a low and heavy sigh full of the feelings that he was unable to explain. "I'm an idiot."

She studied his face carefully, her eyes softening when a shadow of a smile crossed her lips. "Sometimes," was her soft reply.

A low chuckle escaped his lips and his features lightened a little, the blue of his eyes more evident, but still unsure, still sad. They stared at each other for an instant, the eyes of one carefully searching for the true inside the other's. Then, he reached out for her hand and she watched when he entwined his fingers with hers. A lonely tear rolled down her cheek when he brought her hand to his lips and placed a soft and warm kiss on its back.

She could have kissed him now and there, but she restrained herself, still unsure of where all that would leave them. Besides, it was better to follow his lead. If what she had seen in his eyes were true, he would do it when he was ready.

"Come with me," the kindness on his voice almost broke her, "I want to show you something."

* * *

He guided her by her hand to outside, the first signs of the coming day showing through the heavy clouds that covered the sky. He frowned watching the sky over their heads for a moment, deciding after a short moment that it was safe to go.

But he couldn't be more wrong. As soon as they reached the beach a heavy rain start to fall and the Doctor muttered something under his breath that could only be a gallyfrean curse. He started to run towards the cottage, never leaving her hand. Clara struggled to keep up with his long strides and tightened her grip on his hand, running faster as she could and giggling all the time, until the infectious sound of her laughter put a smile on his face.

They were both breathless and completely drenched when they reached the cottage porch. They looked at each other for a moment, the broad smile on her lips matching perfectly the one on his face. Her sparkling eyes made incredible things inside him, arousing feelings that he was tired of fighting back.

A thunder in the sky made them both break eye contact and he caught her enchanted look at the pebbles that seemed to grow from nowhere in the middle of sand.

"It's the rain," he explained, "there is a kind of chemical reaction when the rain drops reach the sand that transforms them in those colorful little pebbles." He kneeled on the ground and extended his hand to get some of them from the sand at the front step, ignoring the cold drops that almost froze his fingers. "You are a very lucky lady," he smiled and handed her the colorful crystals, his fingers brushing hers lightly. "It is a very rare phenomenon, I had seen it only once," her eyes met his and he allowed himself to be lost in the chocolate brown of hers. "Hervellians used to say that it is raining stars."

He watched her while she marveled herself with the stones.

"They are beautiful," her soft smile warmed his insides and he would've kissed her there and now, but the cold rain was merciless and he knew that she was probably freezing by now, the fabric of her gown stuck on her skin.

"Let's get inside. You need to change this clothes and get warm."

She followed him inside and what she saw surprised her. The cottage lacked the luxury of the palace, of course, but it was very cozy in its simplicity. They were inside a large living room furnished with two huge coaches full of pillows. There was a fireplace in front of the couches and at the opposite side she could see a different room that she thought might be a kitchen. An open door on the wall showed a wooden staircase that lead to the upper floor where probably the bedrooms were.

He kneeled in front of the fireplace to light up the fire, but looked at her first.

"You should get upstairs and change your clothes before you freeze," his eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer. "I'm pretty sure that there will be something that suits you in one of the bedrooms."

"Right," she walked to the staircase but stopped at the door, a small frown on her brow. "And you?"

"First I'll make us a fire, it will keep us warm until we can go back to the TARDIS," his soft smile brought back the fluttering felling on her stomach. "I'll go change myself in a minute."

He watched her while she walked upstairs, his hearts racing dumbly when she cast a glance over her shoulder before she disappeared.

After he fixed the fire, he went to the kitchen and looked for something with he could make them tea. Luckily, the King had always appreciated a good tea, so he quickly found a kettle and small pots with different tea flavors. Letting the kettle of water on the stove, he ran upstairs to find a dry set of clothes for himself. The only thing that had remained dry had been the waterproof bandage on his hand, and the cold already started to claim his bones.

Clara was already there when he came back and received him with a smile and a steamy cup of tea. She was wearing a flowered dress that was obviously a little large for her and had forced her to roll the sleeves up. Her hair was arranged in a bun behind her head and some loose strands of brown hair felt on her cheeks.

"You look good on flowers," he said, taking a seat next to her at the coach, inwardly appreciating the adorable pink that showed up on her cheeks. He took a long sip from his mug, the fire and the warm liquid going down his throat sending away the cold from his body.

"Oh, that's good," he sighed resting his head at the backrest and stretching his legs, trying to control his insecurities. He didn't want to ruin the moment, breaking the still fragile connection they had just rebuilt. But she knew him better.

Clara smiled softly and her eyes searched for his, encouraging him. "How much?"

He placed his mug at a near table and shifted a little on the couch, approaching her slightly to gently remove a strand of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear.

"Very much," his fingers slowly trailed down her cheek, tracing a soft and warm path to her chin, his eyes never leaving hers as his thumb caressed her lower lip.

That was all the encouragement Clara needed to also move a little closer. She placed one hand over his chest, the thin fabric of his shirt unable to hide the frenetic heartbeats of his hearts under her hand.

Carefully, he leaned towards her, his lips now mere centimeters from hers. His breath gently touched her face and he lightly nuzzled her nose with his, causing her to tremble in anticipation.

"Are you ok?" He murmured against her lips.

She just nodded, unable to find her voice and, as much as her dry mouth and her screaming body longed for his kiss, she didn't move and just waited for him.

He finally closed the gap between them and his lips claimed hers, firmly and surprisingly gentle. Clara tilted her head, responding to his kiss immediately, losing herself in the warm of his soft lips against hers and when his tongue asked her for permission, she parted her lips for him. It amazed her how his kiss could be passionate and tender at the same time, how his demanding tongue could taste her in a very sensual way and made it feel like a gentle caress at once.

When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers, pulling her close with one of his arms. She still had her hand on his chest over the place where his right heart beat wildly. He moved away a little, enough for him to look her in the eyes.

"Clara..." His voice was a hoarse whisper and she could see on his eyes a hundred of unspoken questions she didn't know if she would be able to answer. But it was the spark, that familiar glint on the deep of his eyes that gave her hope and soothe her own insecurities.

He closed his eyes for a short moment that couldn't have been more than half a second, but it seemed to her like an eternity.

"It's probably unfair to ask you this, since you'd already saved my life countless times," he whispered, his eyes now searching for hers once more and he hesitated for a second. "Can you save my hearts, Clara Oswald?" He swallowed hard. "Can you?"

She felt hot tears prickling on the corner of her eyes. After everything they had been through, everything that had tested them, that had pushed all the boundaries of their relationship, after everything that had almost broken them, that was really happening. And she couldn't find her voice, the acknowledgement that he was finally baring his soul for her stole from her the words that could heal them. So she gently cupped his face, her delicate fingers slowly running through his cheek and he leaned in her touch, his eyes fluttering.

"Give them to me, Doctor," she spoke softly and every bit of the feelings she had so carefully concealed in the depths of her own heart was now written clearly on her eyes. "I will keep them safe."

His eyes sparkled and the most beautiful smile lit up his entire face.

"Clara, my Clara, they have been yours for long," he whispered in her lips before his strong arms pulled her for another kiss, wrapping her waist, keeping her close. Moving her arm between them, she placed her another hand over his left heart and knew, even before she could felt it, that it would be beating at the same madly rhythm of her own, like a beautiful song. Her lips curled inside his kiss. Their beautiful song.


End file.
